If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Ray did not pace, he just stood. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. “Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed.
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